Combien tu m’aimes?

“How much do you love me?” she asked, taking a sip from her wine glass and closing her eyes. He stared at her silently, a bit taken aback.

“Enough,” he said finally. But no, that’s not right.

“What I mean, of course, is I love you very much.” He scowled, quickly smiled, putting a last spoonful of cake in his mouth, savoring the taste.

She leaned forward, still looking at the glass intently. She lowered her voice.
“Just HOW much do you love me? And how would you prove it? What would you do for me?”

The waiter came to clear the table. She waved him away.

“I’d do anything,” he said with a smile. “Climb the highest mountain. Swim the widest sea.”

“That’s a very cheesy dialogue” she said. Her focus shifted from the wine glass to him.

He was looking at her, still smiling.

He held her gaze, unblinking.

* * *

In those few minutes, she dreamt that he walked to her and whispered, “Do you really want to know just how much I love you?”

He dropped down before her on his knees. He closed his eyes, and offered his throat.

She laughed, knelt down with him, and caressed his cheek. Cold lips touched his forehead. Cold hands brushed his chest.

She pinched, reached inside, and held him up on her fingers.

He breathed out, the pain washing over him.

And he hugged her. Enveloping her like a warm blanket, to keep her safe.

* * *

He broke her dream, as he touched and held her hand across the table.

She stared at him, still in daze.

He whispered sincerely, “I love you very much, my darling. I love you more than the tallest tree, more than the biggest mountain, and more than the brightest star. In fact, I love you more than the tastiest cheese cake in the world!”

She laughed out, and he kept smiling.

It was as satisfying as her dream. May be even more.


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